


The Untold Want

by Milotzi



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-09-02 03:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20269009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milotzi/pseuds/Milotzi
Summary: An unexpected encounter leads to a journey of discovery. What happens when your survival depends on someone you have come to think of as your enemy.Spellwood post part 2.





	1. Hamburg

**Author's Note:**

> _The untold want by life and land ne’er granted,_  
_Now voyager sail thou forth to seek and find._  
Walt Whitman

Hamburg. Nearly daylight. 

Rain was pouring down her spine. Maybe paying the cut-throat rent for a bed in a room full of strangers would have been the better option. 

Vinnie T's wet fur had started smelling. There was no place outside that offered protection from the storm that wasn't awash with people, mortal and witchkind. Refugees of all Dark church denominations were flooding the city. For want of a better word. She, of course, was one of them. 

Pressed against a wall, Zelda was debating with herself which was more important, eating, shelter for the night or anti-aging medications. Until she could get access to more funds, she needed to compromise. All night bars were an option but they were expensive as well as dangerous. Not least because any transaction that involved what otherwise she was always willing to give in the right circumstances carried the risk of her being murdered or robbed, these days. 

How had they ever thought that upheavals like theirs could be calmly accepted by other covens or not be noticed by the mortal world. 

Zelda had lasted as High Priestess for all but a fortnight, and 24 hours as Antiantipope before she had been betrayed. Not only had some members of her coven refused to believe what had happened and called her a heretic, but all three groups, traditionalists, Judasians and the Acolytes of Lilith had immediately broken into splinter groups and started fighting for supremacy. Zelda found that her appetite for power stopped short of killing everyone who opposed her. 

Not only had her coven splintered into warring factions but so had the Church, with each leader declaring himself or herself Antipope. 

Of course, all this activity had drawn mortal attention. Witchhunters and Angels had descended on them. 

The last thing she heard from Sabrina was that a civil war had broken out in Hell itself. Thank Lilith, Sabrina or Lilith seemed to have locked the gates of Hell, or demons would have spilled out and added to their troubles. 

Now it seemed mortals had picked up the _zeitgeist_ and there were rumblings of another world war. 

Thankfully, Dr Cee had understood the signs of the times and had taken himself and Hilda to Canada the moment the first stone had crashed through his shop window.

If only Zelda hadn't felt so responsible for the coven. As well as unwilling to concede that by that time she was High Priestess in name only. 

Canada. If all went well she would be able to join them. But the banks in Hamburg had closed and it wasn't sure when or whether they would be open again. 

The gold sewn into her fur coat and the hem of her skirt and underskirt would be needed in their new home, she thought. Or to bribe someone for new papers. But she needed privacy to access them. And privacy was a luxury not to be had these days. 

Maybe someone needed a midwife. A midwife without papers wouldn't earn much but every little thing helped. And umbilical cords were an incredibly useful source of youthfulness. 

Or maybe, if she went to the harbour now, she could find a ship to stowe away on.

Once away from the chaos of Hamburg she should be able to find her power and practice witchcraft again without fear of being found and torn apart by one party or the other.

Yes, once the rain let up a little, she would find her way to the harbour.

***

Of course, hundreds of other witches and warlocks had had the same idea. Furthermore, Zelda realised, the big shipping companies and the harbour authorities were keeping an eye on everything. Salespeople were offering tickets, real and fake, she assumed, for horrendous prices. Church of Night vigilantes were scanning the crowd for the faces of heretics. Hellfire torches were burning next to the customs House, brought here from the temples in the underbelly of Rome. Of course, that also explained why her witch powers were so diminished.

She decided to queue for the tea or soup some charity was offering to the homeless. If she was lucky they would also distribute blankets or towels. 

Men in uniforms with guns and Alsatians. The police were randomly checking the papers of those who were queuing or just sheltering in the entrances of houses. Of course, the fur coat caught their attention. 

The papers were fading already but still legible, and Zelda reinforced the spell by giving her name, the name she had chosen for now, "Fiona Mann."

The policeman nodded, maybe impressed by her educated accent, "Danke, Frau Mann." 

"Meine Mutter war aus Schottland," she added, to explain her first name. Too much information. Suspicious. Drat, why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut. 

He took another look at the papers. He was youngish, good looking in a Northern European way, and if times had been different she might have started a flirtation. He couldn't be doing this for long. 

"Ah, Schottland, ein schönes Land, da haben Sie sicher die schönen roten Haare her."

So he liked her hair. Before she could reconsider and use this to her advantage, his burlier colleague had made him return her papers and they had moved on to scare someone else who did not have proper resident status. 

***

Half an hour later the queue had moved a few metres. Zelda was beginning to feel weak. 

"Over here," a middle-aged volunteer took her by the arm, quite suddenly. "You got lost. You are in the wrong queue, my dear. This one is for individuals. The fast lane for families is over there." 

Then things happened very quickly. One moment she was wondering whether the volunteer had mistaken Vinnie T in her bag for a baby; the next moment she had been dragged across to the second queue, and a sleeping infant had been dropped into her arms. She was held in a vice-like grip, and a well-known smooth voice thanked the volunteer for helping to locate his wife. Who had lost her way. 

The infant stirred in his sleep and started wimpering. Zelda stroked his face and he calmed down. Funny, how certain powers left you last if at all. 

Little Baby Judas. And his twin sister, asleep in her father's arms. 

His voice. "What a hellsend you prove to be, once more. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, eh?“

His smooth voice that once held dominion over her every action. The voice that once had spoken to her innermost desires. 

His hand relaxed a little. She was holding a babe, her night son, in a queue of witch families in a city that wasn't hers; he was holding Leticia. What could she do. 

"Faustus," she whispered, still not looking at him. 

"Zelda." Unexpectedly, there wasn't as much amusement or triumph in his voice as much as there seemed to be sheer and utter relief. 

"Zelda, I take it none of us, least of all the twins, would benefit from a scene. I have a proposition to make to you. But first, let us get provisions. You won't regret this. Families are treated better than individuals.“

She nodded. What else could she do? 

He let go of her and picked up his bag. 

As they carried the children into the tent, an officious looking elderly woman eyed them suspiciously, her eyes darting between the babes' and Zelda's faces. 

"Meine zweite Frau. Aus gutem Haus." And he winked, while rubbing his fingers and thumbs. 

The older woman was not amused. 

His second wife. With money if she understood him correctly. Zelda held on to Judas. A glance at Faustus told her that she looked at least a decade if not two older than him. She felt anger rising in her. How come there was no sign the hard times had had any effect on him? 

The young policeman, who had checked Zelda’s papers approached. 

"Gibt es Probleme? Ah, die schottische Frau Mann hat Familie." 

This time he checked Faustus's papers. Then nodded at Mr and Mrs Mann and even apologized. These days there were so many con artists trying to play the system. 

Another volunteer showed them where they could later get the food and the other items they would need, where they could wash and where they could queue for tea and the family special. 

Zelda followed Faustus mechanically, just making sure that Judas was alright. 

She was in shock. The policeman had obviously seen what Faustus had intended him to see. She, however, had caught a glimpse of the actual names on the actual travel papers he had shown him. 

_Spellman. Edward Spellman, his wife Diana, and unspecified offspring. _

Faustus Blackwood was travelling as her brother.


	2. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda decides whether she wants to listen to Faustus's proposition.

When they finally sat down at a corner table, Faustus spilled some salt on the plastic table cloth and drew a sign. Then he threw some over his shoulder, and with a nod invited her to do the same. He then stood up, and sprinkled salt around them, unnoticed by anyone but Zelda, as long as he was inside the imaginary outer circle formed by the two grains of salt flung furthest. Under his breath he was murmuring incantations.

Damn it. She felt like a small animal being encircled by a muscular black panther. Maybe she should think of herself as a hedgehog. Or better, a porcupine. Her insecurities rolled up inside a very spiky outside. 

When he was done he sat down. He looked at her with deep sadness. The shepherd-welcoming-the-errant-sheep-back-to-the-fold look. Oh no. Not this time. 

The cheek of him. She bristled, ready to fight or fly, whatever the situation demanded. The weight on her lap and small hand in her face reminded her that she was still holding the boy. Satan, she was tired and hungry, and not up to the concentration this demanded. 

Faustus was gently rocking his daughter on his knee. How could one individual look so harmless and so dangerous at the same time? 

He nodded at the food and tea on the table between between them. "Eat and drink, before they wake up."

She stared at him incredulously. He wanted her to take something that he was giving her? Not this time.

Faustus sighed and, incredibly, looked hurt.

"I see. Of course. You _do _realize you have already accepted my son from me, so had I wanted to put you under a spell your resistance would come a bit late. And I obviously wouldn't be talking about a proposition if I meant to force you into anything. However," he raised one hand in a manner that was supposed to symbolise peace, "you are, of course, free to go and pick your own food and tea from the line."

He paused, and his eyes sought hers.

“And I would completely understand if you did not come back. I promised you there would be more and better food, and that's a promise I have kept. I would not want to make you do anything you do not want to do, Zelda."

This nearly made her get up and leave. How dare he? But the child was heavy in her arms, and she was wet, tired and hungry.

He rearranged Leticia on his lap and held out his other arm.

"Of course, in that case, I would kindly ask you to return my son to me." 

Zelda held on to Judas, and did not move. While the child was heavy, letting him go again was not an option. All she could do was look daggers at the warlock who was so casually addressing her as if what had happened in the past was at best a minor inconvenience. 

"Fine. Eat or don't eat. " Faustus's politeness was showing cracks. "But you won't be any good to anyone if you faint." 

He slurped his tea and grimaced. Too hot, too tepid, too tasteless, too strong, too something. Suddenly she could not take it any longer.

Outside the circle of salt she breathed more calmly. She still had Judas in her arms. She could hand him to one of the volunteers, and just leave. She doubted Faustus would follow her, not with two small children and travelling papers, which allowed him to leave for better shores.

That nice policeman was looking at her and waving. No, with her power so drained, who knows after her and the general chaos she could not risk to try to have Faustus arrested. Whatever she did must not endanger the twins. Also arrested for what. So either leave, alone, or stay. He had his children, her brother's papers and a plan that somehow involved her willing cooperation. Of course, he did not have to force her. 

He knew her too well.

As she stepped back over and into the salt circle with Judas, two cuddly toys and a mug of hot milk and honey, the power of the protective spell was obvious. 

Faustus was calmly eating his rye bread and cheese as if he had no troubles in the world. Leticia was still fast asleep in his arm. 

Zelda settled down to have her own breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was incredibly enjoyable to write despite its being nearly the opposite of fluff.More soon.


	3. The Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times are bad. Hamburg isn't a safe place for heretics. The plan unfolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating...

The way to the _Pension_ near the harbour was a stark reminder why escaping the continent was a must. 

By now the crowd consisted of late night revellers who hadn't yet accepted that a new day had dawned, people on their way to and from work as shifts ended and began, deliveries, and those who so clearly had nowhere to go. As polite as the police had been earlier they were obviously on the look-out for so-called illegals, witches or other refugees without proper documentation.

Zelda nearly bumped into Faustus when he suddenly stopped. Hissed instructions to follow him into a brightly lit entrance. Past slumped bodies, through the stench of vomit and alcohol. The shop sold alcohol but also diapers, baby wipes and glasses of baby food. Which they had already picked up at the charity. Yet Faustus spent a good quarter of an hour discussing the pros and cons of differentrent brands with one of the assistants while she stood by, both babes getting heavier in her arms each minute he droned on.

She observed a couple of blokes in black leather coats hanging around near the doorway that had not been there before. One ambled towards them, too casually, a bottle of _Jägermeister_ in a wire basket, watching them out of the corner of his eyes. Judas whimpered in his sleep. A whiff of incense and sulphur caught her nose. Abruptly, Faustus turned round, holding up glasses of _Hipp_, _Alete_ and _Milupa_ baby food, apparently for her final decision. She could hear a contemptuous snort and a snigger as the black leather coat walked by, returning to the door. An instant later both leather coats and the bottle of _Jägermeister_ had disappeared. 

Faustus grabbed the shop assistant's arm before he could raise the alarm, "All of that, and add that _Jägermeister_, too. Indeed, you may add the price of another one for yourself. No need for any unpleasantness. No need to call the police. They _are_ the police." He tapped the side of his nose twice, and winked at the frightened man. "We, too, serve justice, so the least said the better, my friend. Dark times, these." Another wink. 

A very scared shop assistant did as he was told. 

Outside, it had started to drizzle again. The black leather coats were nowhere to be seen. 

***

Faustus had managed to hire a room for use during the day until its proper occupants returned in the evening

The landlady was unkempt, the room untidy, with the proper occupants' possessions strewn all over the place, including the miniature en suite bathroom. Zelda cleared one of the two beds, covered it with a blanket, and put a washed and freshly dressed Leticia down on it. 

At the foot of the bed, Vinnie T was keeping guard. 

Faustus placed Judas next to his sister.

"It can't be good for them to sleep so much."

Faustus shrugged his shoulders. "It's a harmless spell. Better than to catch someone's attention by being too lively. Especially in this country. "

He sat down on the other bed, rubbing his forehead.

"Maybe we should sleep a bit, too. Or at least get some rest. We need to be out by five, and down by the harbour at six at the latest. _The Ocean Queen_ sails at ten thirty, and there are many who would take our place if we're not there in plenty of time." He kicked off his boots and curled up on the bed.

"Wake me in an hour."

"Aren't you worried the leather coats may have followed us?" Zelda did not add, or that I might change my mind. He knew she knew that this was the best if not the only option either of them had to reach safer shores. No matter what they might feel about each other. Hard as it was they needed to trust each other she supposed. 

"Nobody followed us. They'll be at the quay, no doubt. Should there be a raid grab one of the twins and meet me and the other by the harbour entrance. For crew, not for passengers. Number 7."

Two hours, she decided as his breathing became regular, interrupted by the odd snore. She would wake him in two hours. That would give her enough time to clean up and mull over the proposition she had accepted and the answers he had given her. 

As she leant over him to find her hairbrush in the bag she had casually dropped between the two beds a hand shot out and gripped her wrist. 

His dark blue eyes bored into hers. 

"And no funny business, Zelda." 

"Hairbrush," she muttered. 

He let go, turned round, once more apparently fast asleep. 

So he didn't trust her either. Good. At least he was taking her seriously then. 

***

"What would you have done, had you not found me?“ she had asked, right after agreeing to what he had proposed. 

"Found another witch who needed to escape this mess, Zelda. They're two a penny. But, of course, you are best suited. As you well know spells work best when there is some literal truth as well as a metaphorical one. In addition to the power of him," a slight pause as he remembered who he was talking to, "or her who casts the spell. You _are_ my spouse, after all, or more relevantly, _I_ am yours, you are a Spellman and the word _offspring_ can be applied loosely to apply to both the twins. Who aren't only your stepchildren but also your nightchildren, which may count for more." 

Her brother's universal travel papers. 

For any voyage on an ocean liners of that company, for Spellman, spouse and any offspring, the dates, points of departure and arrival to be spellcast when needed. Including IDs in the Spellman name, details to be spellcast as needed. 

Faustus had denied stealing them from Edward. 

"Listen, Zelda. He was my mentee. He trusted me. He gave this wallet to me for safekeeping. With a copy of the original papers he was carrying with him, in case that Roman adventure did not work out. I just," a slightly guilty look, "deemed it best to swap the original and the copy. He had so many enemies. In Rome. Much better to have the originals safe at home in the safe of the Church."

They had discussed that journey to Rome years ago. In the aftermath of the tragedy, during their wedding ceremony before they had spoken their final unholy vows in his office. It hadn't been him.

Zelda had never quite believed him. But she hadn't quite not believed him either. In the end she had decided that what mattered was returning power and glory to the Spellman name. What foolhardiness. And yet, even during that time of that dratted spell, when she had had to suffer him going on and on about himself in that smug and self-congratulatory tone, he had never bragged about getting rid of Edward. So maybe he hadn't. Not that it mattered that much any more after what he had tried to do to the coven.

She must be mad to have agreed to this.

And yet.

The twins. The tickets. His power. Her need to escape this place.

The Argentines were as good a place as any if no direct voyage to Canada was available. 

She, too, had made many enemies.

Better the devil you know.

***

When it was her turn she fell asleep within minutes. She woke to a dark room. No Faustus. No twins. No für coat. The gold from her skirt gone. 

Before she had time to panic there was a gentle knock on the door.

The landlady came in, carrying a tray with tea, biscuits and a bowl of potato soup.

"Your husband needed to go and buy something for your journey. Aren't you the lucky one. Such a handsome, charming warlock. And with a government position, to boot."

"The twins," Zelda croaked.

"I put them in my grandchildren's cot. The one I use when they're visiting. What beautiful children. I always say that mixed ones are always especially pretty. Just like milk chocolate. Adopted? Or did you have a little fling?"

A wink.

"Anyways, you should never have risked them rolling off that bed."

A stern look.

"Not that they did. But they could have. And my dear, I hope you don't mind my saying so, I know it's difficult with young kids but you shouldn't let yourself age so. I know the stuff doesn't taste pleasant but you do need to keep your husband's interest up, especially when you're a bit older. Which reminds me. He paid me, quite handsomely I have to add, to get you this."

She pulled a small bottle out of her apron pocket and placed it on the tray.

"It's strong so seven drops only, in your tea twice a day. It should reverse some of those wrinkles and grey hair in no time. Mind you don't take too much of it, it will make you feel quite _lively_ as it is."

A grin and another wink. "My apothecary witch thinks I have a new love interest..."

When she had left, Zelda sniffed at the little bottle and took a closer look at the list of ingredients listed in minute handwriting. Nothing out of the ordinary, except maybe for the _maidens' tears_ and the liquorice root. What a strange place this part of the world was, she thought. Listing an expiry date as well as every ingredient including the type of spells and allergen groups for everyone to see and copy when, in the past, witches killed to keep the secret ingredients of any potion they produced.

***

When Faustus returned, Zelda had persuaded their landlady to allow her to take the cot with the twins into their room. The twins had been fed, washed and changed again. Zelda herself had taken a shower, washed and was dry-blowing and brushing her hair. She was feeling better, more energetic. 

"Bathroom," she shouted at the sound of the door opening and boxes or cases being dropped on the floor. 

Faustus came in, cast an appreciative glance in her direction, took in her figure, covered by the thinnest of bathrobes, hummed, and nodded towards the toilet. 

"I need to take a slash." 

Zelda shrugged her shoulders. There had been times he would just have ignored her and gone ahead with whatever he needed to do. "Go ahead, nothing I haven't seen before. Unless you want me to leave and don't mind my hair looking like that of a banshee. 

It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. "The cabin won't be any roomier so we might as well get used to having no privacy. You'd hear all through these walls anyway." 

Strange. Being so intimate again, after all that had happened. And they'd have to continue being in such close proximity for a whole fortnight on the _Ocean Queen_ it seemed. 

Faustus seemed to follow a somewhat similar line of thought as he was taking care of his business. He was shaking his cock dry, and, quite out of the blue, asked, "What about fornication?" 

“What?" Zelda was taken aback. 

"Fornication. Carnal pleasures. Sex. Intercourse." 

"I know what fornication means. I just don't know how it can..." Zelda had been about to use the unfortunate term _come up_ when she stopped herself in time. Faustus manhood not coming up had been part of what went wrong on their honeymoon. Not so much a problem now it seemed. 

"Well, I'm a warlock and you're a witch. Fornication is second nature to us. We'll be cooped up together for a fortnight. Too close to play it by ear. So either we do it with strangers and give each other the space or we do it together. Seeing we're travelling with children who need to be minded the former might be more practical, seeing we're supposed to be a married couple the latter might lead to less trouble." 

"_Supposed_ to be married? What's that supposed to mean?“ 

“_Are_, then. I'm talking Mr and Mrs Spellman here, Zelda. And a fortnight in a small cabin together. So stop using that tone of voice and be practical for once."

Zelda, who felt she had hardly been anything but practical her whole life, huffed. Satan, what she wouldn't give for a cigarette. 

A knock on the door reminded them they weren't alone in the house. 

Faustus buttoned up his pants, and left the bathroom, to open the door. 

Just their landlady to collect the tray and to remind them that it was after four. She needed to do run some errands, so if she wasn't back, just to leave the key under the door mat.

From the bathroom door Zelda waved her goodbyes. 

The way that one was making eyes at Faustus, who must indeed have paid her handsomely, reminded Zelda that Faustus, for one, would have no difficulties finding a night maiden or two on their voyage. Even when he just waited for someone to leave, like now, Faustus's muscular stance conveyed that this was just a moment of stillness in an otherwise supple dance of power. Their dance if she chose so. 

He must have sensed her eyes on him for, once he had locked the door, he turned round and stared right back at her. 

"Well?" 

Rather than say what was on her mind, she stalled. 

"Won't she betray us?" 

He shrugged. "Not impossible but not likely. I put a protective spell on the door to confuse anyone intending us harm. She wouldn't be able to find the house."

"What did you do with my fox? And the gold?" 

Faustus stared at her.

"The gold's safely locked in the strongbox, with our papers. We aren't travelling as people who have anything to hide. We're the Spellmans. We travel for leisure. Your fox had a tracking spell attached to it, so currently it's on it's way to Munich in the back of a lorry."

Faustus sighed. "So all is as well as it can be. Now we just have to pack what we had in the cases with the more appropriate clothes I organised, and get us and the twins on board. And survive a fortnight together, and disembark without being outed as the realms' most wanted heretics."

He walked to one of the cases he had _organised_, opened it and took out a bag and gave Zelda a bottle of _Alpbergquelle, sparkling_. 

"Drink that before we leave. You'd better look the part. I've already added the 'lixir." 

Zelda had no idea what he was talking about. 

"What 'lixir?

Faustus looked oddly sad.

"The one I used to mix into the unholy well in Greendale. The one still in it when you took over. You didn't think everyone stayed young because of the caring and generous unholy blessings offered by our Dark Lord, did you? Or the Demoness Lilith?" 

His expression was quite bitter as he took out another bottle, opened it and drank from it himself.

"Once we have left this shore it'll help not only restore and keep your youthfulness but also your power. And do get rid of that old wives' brew. That was just to make us more relateable." 

"I didn't know."

"Obviously not." 

As he emptied his bottle, she started drinking hers. The effect was almost immediate, with great surges of youthful energy coursing through her veins. Even her hair felt more luscious and thicker. 

Faustus had turned to start putting the various items they had been given and bought for the twins in one of the cases. 

Zelda approached, and ever so gently put a hand on his arse. He froze, and waited for her next move. 

"Faustus," she whispered. 

He did not respond. 

"We have more than an hour, don't we. So maybe, all things considered, we should try out which of the two options you mentioned would suit us best. To be entirely practical about it." 

He still did not respond although the pattern of his breathing had changed. 

"Faustus," she whispered again, in a suddenly throaty voice, one she hadn't heard coming out of her mouth in a long, long time she thought. Her hand was shaking slightly as she moved it gently up and down. "I will stop touching you if you don't want to be touched but you'll have to tell me one way or the other... Faustus?" 

"No."

It surprised her with how much regret she let go of him. 

In a flash, he had turned around and was pressing her hand against his crotch. 

"No, I don't want you not to touch me... Zelda." 

She briefly wondered whether his expression was amused as well as full of lust before his face crashed into hers and that well-remembered dance of tongue around tongue and lips on lips demanded her full attention.

Better the devil you know.

A little later he pulled her into the tiny bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat, freed his straining prick, and let her climb atop of him and seek the nearly overwhelming pleasure of the position the literature referred to as _The Wild Ride*****_, ***** standing for _ quite difficult but rewarding for both parties if done properly_. 

***

Much later, safely on board the _Ocean Queen_, with cases, sleeping twins and Vinnie T safely where they belonged, they tested which of a number of positions they had enjoyed at some stage of their relationship were suited to their small cabin and even smaller ensuite bathroom. 

Of course, to be entirely practical about it, they'd have to test them again and see whether the ocean liner actually being at sea rather than still on the river _Elbe _ would make a difference. 

Even later, between orgasms, Zelda wondered how the self same slurping sound made by the self same warlock could drive her crazy in such different ways, depending on whether that warlock was slurping tea or lapping up her juices. 

By Satan, Lilith or whoever, Faustus knew his way to pleasuring a partner.

But so, Zelda thought with a great sense of achievement, just before the next wave of lustful joy crashed over her, so did she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting explicit a lot faster than I thought it would. Ah well, they are imminently practical.
> 
> Lust not trust seems to be the motto here. What do you think?


	4. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choices have consequences. But which choices will be taken?

One of his hands was buried in her hair, his mouth was nibbling her neck, and he was gently stroking her right breast.

"Let me stay in you a little."

Zelda snuggled even closer to him, willing this moment to last. 

How right her decision to travel from Hamburg to Buenos Aires with him had turned out to be. 

***

"_New York?_ You never mentioned that we'd stop in New York _en route_." Zelda was furious. "You had no business to do what you did."

She was trying hard to keep her voice down, for the twins' sake. She would have liked to cry or punch his face or both. At least he was not looking smug, as he had done the last time he had denied her the right to take her own decisions. If she had been in a mood to read his face any longer, she might even have detected a hint of a bad conscience but she was so livid she turned from him and kept her eyes steadfast on the button she was sewing onto one of his shirts. As she pushed the needle into the fabric she muttered a curse under her breath. If he ever was stupid enough to wear this shirt he would regret it. Damn him.

"Zelda, we have an agreement." There was the slightest of tremors in his voice.

"Yes, and you assumed I would break it so you drugged me into a-three day-sleep until it was too late for me to leave and take the easy route to Canada. I should have known the tiger cannot change its stripes." 

"Zelda."

She got up, dropping his shirt on the floor.

"I'm going outside. Being in the same room with you is more than I can take just now."

***

She clutched on to the railing and held her face into the wind.

They had not been talking for days. Indeed, they had hardly seen each other because, by an unspoken understanding, each left the cabin when the other entered. Looking after the twins and sleeping had become easier but Zelda was as angry as she had been when she first realized what he had done. Mostly at herself. She should have known better than to trust him even a little. She should have known better than to let him near her again. 

Not much harm done, she supposed. She would make it to Vancouver from Buenos Aires when they arrived.

She had still done her duty as nightmother to the twins.

He could go to heaven.

***

He paused before he leaving their cabin, and turned to look at her.

"You haven't been taking your 'lixir." He held out a little bottle to her.

She stared at him.

"No, don't say anything. I understand you do not wish to drink anything I touched but it is for the twins' sake. We shall be arriving in Buenos Aires fairly soon and we can't risk being denied entry." He paused and sighed. "I swear to you by all that is unholy that I have added nothing to this. Not this time."

As she took the bottle from his hand, she noticed the bright red rash it was covered in, with sores where he must have scratched the blisters.

He was wearing the shirt she had been mending. From the state of his skin he must have been wearing it for some days now.

Their eyes met for a moment.

Then she took the little bottle and turned her back to him.

He could go to heaven.

***

When he came back, some of the blisters on his skin had become clearly infected.

She could not help herself and spoke to him for the first time in a long while.

"Why, for hell's sake, are you still wearing that shirt when you can clearly see what it does? Are you trying to get me to pity you? Don't you think they will notice at immigration if the ship's crew don't before then? Blaming me for endangering the twins because I am not looking young enough for my passport while you yourself are continuing to make yourself look as if you had a contagious disease? Getting us all quarantined, is that what you are trying to do?"

Faustus lowered his eyes.

"I thought," he finally said, "that maybe I deserved whatever punishment you had set for me. And at least this shirt looks clean, unlike the others." And, after another pause, "I don't know a spell to stop it from affecting my skin."

Zelda stared at him, unbelievingly.

"How did you manage to look after the twins all this time? It is the same as a common baby rash, and ordinary cold cream would probably have cleared it up if applied straight away. And definitely the one we have been using for the twins."

Of course, he had always found mortal women or witches to help with the nappy changes. Of course.

She opened a drawer, pulled out a bag, and held it open. "Throw in your shirts and anything that needs washing and leave the bag outside. The stewards collects our dirty linen and we get it back clean. And put some cold cream on yourself, for fuck's sake."

She picked up Judas. "I will be back for Leticia in a moment. You can collect them from the daycare when it is my turn to sleep."

Faustus's eyes were dark and his lips formed a thin line. "Judith," he hissed. "Her name is Judith."

***

No word was spoken when she came back to their cabin to pick up Leticia.

***

When she returned in the evening, he was sitting on the bed, half-dressed, his back turned to the door, no twins in sight.

The beautiful tattoos on his back were ruined by ugly red blotches and pustules. Much less attractive than the weals that had decorated it after their joint confessions. And surely much less stimulating for his libido. Or hers.

Zelda sighed, sat down next to him, and took the jar of cold-cream from his unresisting hand.

"Shall I put it on your back?"

"Hmmm." He turned his face to her. She wondered whether the traces of tears she saw on his face were those of anger, of pain or of something else.

"Shall I?"

He nodded, and very gently she began applying the cream until all of his back was covered. She was humming a nursery song, which she guessed was driving him crazy. He had always been a proud warlock and this must be humiliating. But half of the healing power was in the song, as every midwife could tell him, but that was something she would keep to herself.

"Turn around," she said, "and let me look at the rest of you."

His chest, his arms, and his hands were much improved but not entirely healed.

Bit by bit, Zelda rubbed some cold cream into his skin and kept humming that song, and she could feel him tense and then relax under her administrations.

She had always enjoyed the power her fingers had over him, and she was beginning to enjoy herself, despite the residue of anger she still felt.

She gently stroked the line of black hair in the area directly under his muscular stomach. It lead directly to an area of the body that was still redder and more inflamed than the rest.

"Take off your pants, and let me see," she ordered.

He did, and, humming, she applied more cream. She could feel him tense again, humiliated, as he was standing before her.

His genitals were covered in blotches and pus, despite the thin layer of cold cream on them.

She put on a thick layer of white cream, lifting his penis and his balls just as she would if he was Judas. She kept humming. When she looked up, his face was nearly as white as the cold cream and his lips formed a thin line.

"Don't worry," she said, with another sigh. "They will heal. And be fully functional again. You should have said something earlier. I'm not the monster here."

If looks could kill, she would be dead now.

She got up and took a pair of pyjamas from the trunk. "Put these on, and sleep some more. I can get the twins in a while."

***

When she returned, first with Judas, then with Leticia, he was fast asleep.

He did not even stir when she washed them, changed their nappies, placed them in their cot and sang them a lullaby until they fell asleep.

She considered waking him but then just took off her dress and climbed under the duvet in her underdress, slip, bra, and tights.

***

When she opened her eyes, Zelda felt a knee between her legs and an arm around her. She herself was clinging to Faustus, and it seemed to her she had just stopped humming that lullaby. Startled and without any memories of how they had ended up in each others' arms, she jumped out of bed. Right then, Faustus also woke; he, too, moved away from her as quickly as she was from him.

In the bathroom, Zelda realized that she was still dressed exactly as she had been some hours before. And Faustus had still been in his pyjamas. So whatever had happened that night, it had not been sex.

***

"Are you done with humiliating me?"

He had taken off his pyjamas and was standing naked in front of the mirrored wardrobe door when she came out of the bathroom. There was only some very slightly red areas on his body, like the lightest traces of sunburn. 

She felt anger rising again.

"Me humiliating you?"

"Yes. You. Me. Cradling me and humming a lullaby as if I was a babe when I am in no state to help myself. How dare you?"

"How dare I? How dare _you_?"

When she stormed out of the cabin, she nearly stumbled over the neatly packaged stack of clean shirts outside their door. She turned round, opened the door, and threw them at him.

"You bastard."

***

They did not talk to each other again that day but when the night came and each turned up to collect one of the twins, they carried them to the cabin, fed them, washed them, put them to bed and, as soon as they had fallen asleep, started, without any words, undressing each other.

For the next days and nights, this is what would happen.

They would wake up next to each other, get dressed, each take a child and look after them somewhere on the ship as long as it was not the same area, then take them to day care for the afternoon, where they would meet but not acknowledge each other. Faustus would retreat to the ship's library, and Zelda would learn how to Samba or how to cook or how to make fruit into fancy animal shapes. They would have dinner in different restaurants but meet again when they picked up the twins, who they would then feed, wash and put to bed. Every night, they would have sex, in a silent competition of who could please who more whilst getting most pleasure for themselves.

***

She was clutching on to the railing and holding her face into the wind.

He was standing next to her, and doing the same.

"Zelda. Can we talk?"

She held on faster, and kept staring into the ocean.

"I'm not good at this, Zelda," he whispered. "I've been a warlock of high standing for too long to be treated like this."

"Treated like what?" Her knuckles turned even whiter. "I have been nothing but good to you, Faustus, as any witch should be to a warlock she has honoured with her hand, and it is you who keeps treating me as if I was an inferior. I do not know what happened between you and the other females in your life, mother, sisters, relatives, wives, or mistresses, and maybe I should have found out before pledging my troth to you, but by the unholy saints, there is something really wrong with you if you cannot accept a witch as your equal."

"A witch can never be a warlock's equal."

"Says who? You?"

"All Satanic teachings..."

"And all witches' lore says we are superiour to warlocks. For fuck's sake, Faustus. We are in the middle of an ocean, a failed Satanic high priest and a failed Satanic high priestess. The world around us is in tatters, and neither of those who we thought of as rulers of hell has been any help. We are escaping by the skin of our teeth because we managed to work together. For the sake of your children. And you talk to me of _Satanic teachings_? Or are we back to the old tale of the Blackwoods superiority to the rest of witchkind?"

"You are a Blackwood. You swore an oath."

"I am also a Spellman, and so are you on this ship, if I may remind you. You know that it is all nonsense, don't you, the Blackwoods' and the Spellmans' ambitions to ultimate superiority. My brother would have brought us all down with his mad plans, too, had he not been stopped."

"That child was wrong. I never killed your brother."

"It doesn't matter. Whatever was the reason for it, his death brought us years of peaceful coexistence among the Unholy Churches and with our mortal neighbours. And then you go and kill the Antipope, blame my poor cousin and try to have all of our congregation poisoned to boot. And chaos ensues. The shere stupidity of it makes my blood boil, Faustus. And what right did you have, to sit in judgment over all of us, I wonder, based on your silly assumptions about warlocks as embodied in your poor son. Serve the unholy community and serve the Unholy One's will, that's what an unholy church should do, even as we strive for our own greater glory or that of our family name. And what are you going to do now? Return the twins to the fold and become a member of that sect your wife escaped from? Marry and impregnate one of her sisters so you have a place to hide? Can't you see how humiliating that is?"

"I have no choice, Zelda. They will be safe there."

"They will be brought up to worship their mother's bloodline, just as you were trying to bring them up to worship yours. Can you not see how sick that is? Power never lies in the blood only. Has it not become clear to you that Sabrina has been ours and ours alone although she wasn't a Spellman by blood because of choice, ours and hers? My stupid brother had no idea what he was doing, but I saw this future as soon as I realized what he had done. Family is choice as well as blood, Faustus. So is marriage. Take away choice, and you have nothing. Allow at least some choice and you have power."

For a while, she let her eyes take in the night sky with its unfamiliar constellations. Then she turned to the warlock who was still her husband.

"You yourself have preached it, Faustus, and it turns out, you were right. Free will and choice matter. Yours. Your children's. Mine."

He was looking at his hands. "I'm sorry, Zelda." His voice was barely audible. "Please don't leave me. Please come with us. They do not mind a warlock having more than one wife there."

Zelda placed a hand over his. "_I_ mind, Faustus, _I_ mind. So I am going to give you a choice. No, two actually. I am giving you the choice to fuck me again tonight and to use flagellation to beat any sin out of me that you think I might have committed. And you can ask to be flagellated as punishment for any sin you have committed. And then you can fuck me again, as long as the night lasts because I enjoy us together and I know you do, too. And your second choice will be tomorrow when we reach the port, Faustus. Take the twins and travel down to that place in Río Negro, or come with me to Vancouver, and we can start over there. You have told me a warlock always knows best, Faustus. So you choose.

She took her hand off his, and turned away from him.

She felt his eyes bore into her back, and her backside, as she walked away.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she would know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back after a long, long hiatus. (Sorry for the wait!) I hope this still interests some of you...


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